Within a few moments of Fisher's shout, the ship was alive with men and officers. Despite the hour, Captain Mends wore a full dress uniform that augmented his frown and his broad shoulders.
'Scotland Yard?'
'Yes, sir,' Watters was aware he looked nothing like a respectable Scotland Yard detective.
'You have one hour to prove this bomb exists, Watters.' Mends did not look impressed. 'After that, my men will prepare for my visitors, and we will have other things in mind apart from your ramblings.' He shook his grey head. 'I can't imagine how the Russians could have placed a bomb on board a Royal Naval ship.'
'Nor can I, sir,' Watters said. 'Unless one of the seamen did it.'
'Not my men,' Mends said flatly.
'Sir,' Watters began, 'I can think of no other way. We have already discovered t
